Last weekend G and I headed out to Santa Paula to a boy scout feast (made BY boy scouts, not OF boy scouts) with the former troop of me, my brother, and my father, 262 (the numba one kr3w!). When my father passed away, the troop decided to institute a memorial award in his name, and gave it to one scout each year who exemplified the qualities personified by him.

The award had been given out for approximately 6 years, and then abandoned for nearly a decade. The plaque remained in and around the meeting place of this troop however, and was recently ‘rediscovered’. The leadership of the troop decided they wanted to resurrect the award, and that they had a perfect candidate, and that they would like us to come out and say a few words about Dad and the history of the award.

I have posted a rough transcript inside. I delivered the entire thing without getting choked up. I wasn’t NEARLY up to it at his funeral to deliver something he deserved, and was glad for the opportunity, even if it was some 16 years later!

I think I speak for my whole family when I say it is an honor that you have decided to continue giving this award in memory of Dad. It is a rare occurrence, to speak in memory of ones’ late father in front of a group, and I thank you all for the opportunity.

I wanted to share about the man behind this award, to give you all some insight into his life, and hopefully you will understand about the kind of leader and role model he was for myself and many other kids.

Much to the dismay of local authorities, and much to the delight of children nearby, Dad had a love for very, very loud toys. We could regale you for hours with tales of his motorcycle, his souped-up ‘sleeper’ station wagon (only for commuting and drag-racing!), his endless gun collection, or his hidden cache of firecrackers. I have chosen the carbide cannon, however, because of its relevance to how much my father loved giving to children in the form of good clean fun.

The carbide cannon was this small black 2′ cannon on two large red wheels. It looked like something straight out of the mid 1800s, only VERY TINY. Properly loaded, you could whack a button on the top of the cannon and it gave off almost no smoke, a very big flash, especially visible at night, and a surpisingly HUGE BOOM, which almost always caused me and everyone around me to jump.

Apart from making us the king of the block fireworks parties and amusing the neighborhood kids on the 4th of July, the cannon had two primary purposes.

One, it found use at Halloween. While dad wasn’t very extravagant on decorations, he was all about mood. A few Halloweens in a row, he and I conspired to scare children seeking candy by creating a pirate ‘scene’. I would dress in pirate garb and sit in shadow, nearly hidden until a group of children would approach. I would peg-leg-walk out to them and hand out candy, ‘ARRRR’ing and ‘MATEY’ing the whole while. When I was done, I would say “AVAST YE SCURVY SWABS” or something equally piratey, and turn to my left. “GIVE ‘EM A BROADSIDE, MATEY!”

Dad was hidden in the bushes to my left, with the carbide cannon. However, he was dressed in black and since the focus was on the candy, he was never noticed. So, out of nowhere, a booming voice returned “AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!”. BOOOM!

We judged the success on two criteria: first was the volume of the screams, and second was the pitch. Our best score was undoubtedly from the group of girlfriends our neighbor would bring to our house annually.

The second purpose of the cannon was to help in providing sound effects around an award ceremony in scouts. If memory serves me correctly, it had to do with the Arrow of Light. They would bring the awardee on stage and send an older, more experienced scout out of the auditorium to go hunt a moose and bring back some blood, that the awardee could drink it at become a man, or at least an arrow of light holder.

The older more experienced scout would grab a rifle (occasionally fake) and march out the door. Within 30 seconds, there would be all manner of rustling and a big MOOOOO from his makeshift bullhorn, suddenly cut off by that huge BOOM. The older scout would stumble in, disheveled, with a glass of ‘blood’, which he would give to the MC and collapse to be carted off by some other older scouts. The awardee would then have to drink the blood!! (Unfortunately, by the time I was given the ceremony they couldn’t find a moose so I had to make due with cranapple juice)

He delighted in things like this. Dad had an enthusiasm for life that nearly defied description. It was so much bigger and more pure than everyone around him. I do not believe it could have been dampened by a difficult boss at work, or even his two tours in Viet Nam! To him, living life ‘well’ meant two things:

First, enjoying all life had to offer. He had so many hobbies it was hard as his child to actually pick a discipline and focus! He liked sailing boats, riding motorcycles, fishing, shooting, flying a sailplane, diving from the high-dive, fixing cars, bikes, and stuff around the house, programming computers, waterskiing, playing video games, playing the guitar and the trumpet and the flute…this was a well-rounded man!

Second, and more important to him than his zillion hobbies, was making an impact on others. He loved to help, to teach, and to give of himself so others’ lives might be enriched. He once bought a 15-person Ford Econoline van for the EXPRESS purposes of CAMPING, and TAKING KIDS ON FIELD TRIPS. He was forever telling us to invite our friends over so he could teach us something new or build something or play a game with us. I don’t ever remember him ever NOT being associated with a scout troop of some kind, as a leader, a helper, a driver for a camping trip.

Dad was really

trustworthy
loyal
helpful
friendly
courteous
kind
obedient
cheerful
thrifty
brave
clean
reverent

He was truly a selfless outdoorsman, and always sought to enrich the lives of everyone around him, selflessly, tirelessly. He was a great role model, and I hope to pass the things he taught me down to my children, and my children’s children.

He taught me one of MY most valuable life lessons, that I’d like to share with you all. On his headstone in Camarillo, it says “He never lost the child within.” When I was about 12, he sat and told me “Son, don’t EVER lose your ability to see things through the eyes of a child. A child loves to learn new things, a child wants to help, and a child can find the fun or the funny in almost any situation.”

Learn to learn, learn to help, and learn to laugh, and you’re walking his path.

Thank you all, and thank you Dad for all you taught me.